The Dragons' Game
by samus18
Summary: Smaug apparently tormented the people of Dale in his youth. This is a short take on the things that might have taken place, during that time.


A/N: Really short story, again, nothing special, but I thought it'd be a somewhat-interesting take on Smaug in his younger days when Dale was still populated.

The Dragon's Game

_"Later he used to crawl out of the great gate and come by night to Dale, and carry away people, especially maidens, to eat, until Dale was ruined, and all the people dead or gone."_ ~ The Hobbit

It was a warm night that graced the lands about the Lonely Mountain and the once-populous city of Dale below its feet. The stars were hazy and dull, and what few trees remained in that desolate land whispered a sad song in the warm summer air. The small creek trickled lazily, as if it, too, were being burdened by the heat. Not a bat fluttered, nor thrush sang, nor rodent stirred - indeed, the only sign of life in the vicinity came from the remains of the city of Dale.

It had not been the same since the dragon came. Now only a shadow of its former self, it lay in semi-ruins like a blotch on the already-miserable land surrounding it. The rocks and cliffs, once looked upon with pleasure and grandeur, were now foreboding gates shutting the people of Dale in that unhappy place. Everything was a threat; everything a danger. The wild beasts that were once abundant were now scarce, if indeed there were any left after the tragedy that took place.

Most of Dale's folk had deserted the city, seeking a new life elsewhere, away from danger and painful memories. They were the survivors of the dragon attack. What number had stayed planned on leaving the city, and those that were less hasty toyed with the thought. No one would stay in such a place forever, so haunting as it was. Food could not be grown in such a barren place, and no one seemed to have the heart to carry on with their daily trade anymore. Things had changed.

It had been most terrible on that ruinous day, when the beast had shown up seemingly from nowhere. The people of Dale had never fully recovered, and many said that they never would; but the torment hadn't stopped with the coming of the dragon. Quite aside from living on the verge of starvation and simmering in depression, the dragon had taken to coming out of his newly-acquired stronghold on some nights. The people were wrong to think that the dragon's appetite could be abated with silver, gold, and precious gems. He was, after all, a living beast, and thus far, he had been relying on the people of Dale for sustenance. There was never any warning when he came - the only telltale sign of his presence would be the roaring of the wind, but by then it was too late to do anything other than flee, for the dragon moved frighteningly fast. Most often, he would carry off maidens to eat. Their screams echoed sorrowfully into the night as the dragon hastened off to his stolen throne, and always the people of Dale could not find it in themselves to speak the following morning.

"This will never do," they said. "The dragon is hunting us like a wolf among sheep!"

Still they stayed, and endured both the wrath of the dragon and the threat of starvation and defeat that was irrefutable. Each day they seemed to convince themselves that if they just held on a bit longer, things would look up, and Dale could be restored to its former glory. Each week that went by without any sighting of Smaug was a week in which they believed he would not come down again, that he was at last through with his nightly massacres. Each time, they were proven wrong. Everyone in Dale knew that their old way of life had come to an end, but many were still in denial. It was no easy thing to give up one's previous life for an uncertain future.

By Smaug's perspective, it was fortuitous that the people of Dale still dared to linger in what remained of their hapless town. It not only satisfied his physical hunger, but he had great sport in frightening and tormenting the towns' inhabitants. He was a slightly young dragon yet, and still prone to seeking amusement in the form of town baiting. It was always his preference, if he could manage it, to seek out maidens to carry away to his domain and devour them at leisure. Men were too often armored and less easy to catch unawares. The women of Dale, however, provided him with much more amusement than did the sons and fathers. Oh, he had carried off a good many men to his larder, and toyed with them sometimes, if the mood struck him; but maidens were his first choice.

On this warm night, he had a hankering for some fun, and decided to pay the vulnerable town a visit. It had been five months since he had last swept down upon them, and young dragon as he was, he began to grow weary of lying on his wealthy bed. He slithered off the gold mound, trailing gold and gems, and proceeded out the front gate. He paused, sucking the warm air into his great lungs, stretched his wings like an enormous bat, and took to the sky. In a matter of minutes, the jagged patch of stone that sat in the bowl of the land that was Dale came into view. Smaug's eyes narrowed in wicked delight and - feeling more enthusiastic than usual - he announced his oncoming with an ear-splitting roar.

Somehow or other, the men had gotten wind of his presence, for already a line of archers had gathered on what was left of the city's walls. Smaug was not intimidated. Men had made stands against him before, but to no avail - this time would be no different than any other. He beat his great wings and flew low over the archers, taunting them, inviting them to take a shot at his impenetrable hide. As he passed over, his tail lashed out and knocked both archers and a chunk of the wall aside as if they were made of straw. He heard the shouts of terror from the men below, the screaming of women and the wailing of children; it was music to his ears, indeed, the only music he truly delighted in.

Over and over again he sailed above the ruins of Dale, setting fire to whatever he thought vulnerable, sweeping over the people and thrashing them out of his way.

When at last he tired of tormenting the townsfolk, he swooped down low over them, one last time, and seized his prize for the night: a confused and helpless young lady who had fallen to the ground in her haste to escape the heat of the battle. He snatched her in his claws, and with a last roar or contempt, flew away from the unhappy city.

The terrified woman lay helpless in the cage of his talons, her screams deafened in his palm as he flew back toward the mountain. He could feel her fear resonating throughout her body, and relished the thought of her suffering before he would end her life. The people of Dale had offended and defied him by their very presence there, lingering, as if they were safe from him in spite of the destruction of their city.

He entered the Front Gate and made for his favorite resting place, a treasure mound now formed into a bowl from the dragon's weight. Coins rattled and clanked beneath him, and the thundering of his footsteps echoed ominously throughout the old dwarven caverns. He nestled into the treasure like a giant cat hunched down for a nap, and released his catch.

The woman was huddled in the palm of his claws, hands sheltering her head, body trembling in utter fear and shock. Smaug's acute hearing could make out the muffled sound of sobs. The woman had not realized that the massive talons had opened.

The dragon sniffed once, twice - indeed, the scent of fear reeked powerfully on this one. Deciding that he would play a few mind games with his prey before devouring her, he rumbled:

"Come, come now, don't be shy."

It was a minute or so before the woman dared lift her face to him. Then, as if realizing that she was still kneeling in the dragon's paw, she gingerly scuttled off and turned to face him. "Please," she barely uttered in a trembling voice, "please, sir dragon, I beg of you - "

"Let me see you," he cut her off, his bass voice frightening her. Without further ado, he brought his enormous face down to hers, gazing at her closely with one large, cruel, yellow eye. He was no expert on mortals, but he knew enough to tell that her face was youthful and fearful (though he didn't need to look closely at her to know that.) The end of his tail twitched in dark glee as a thought came to his mind. "Why don't you help yourself to my treasure? It's quite tempting, is it not?"

In spite of her horror, she gulped, and glanced to the side. "S-sir…"

"Come now," he said again, shoving a small mound of it toward her. She cowered and stepped back. "I've no doubt your pitiful family can use it. Am I right?"

His voice came like thunder crashing down on her defeated spirit, and his breath nearly sent her reeling. She mustered up as much strength and courage as she had left. "Please, sir dragon, I-I just want to go home." The fear was hopelessly evident in her voice.

"My dear lady, do you not want any of this gold?" he mocked.

She shook her head, unable to speak. She could hardly stand for the terror radiating from her body. Smaug feigned anger, and gave a great thump of his tail upon the ground. The woman's shriek was lost in the tumult that followed. She reflexively cowered down to the ground, shielding her head. When the ground was still again, she uncovered her face. Smaug's leering gaze met her, and he said, "Very well, if you do not wish to delight in my riches, I will let you go, on one condition."

She lifted her body a little, and lowered her arms, staring unbelievingly into that evil face.

"You must give something to me in return," he boomed.

The woman could not have appeared more stunned if she tried. Words failed her for a time, then she uttered, "But...I...I have nothing to give!"

"Oh, I think you do." Unbeknownst to her, his tail had slithered around to block off any retreat on her part. He forcefully held her gaze, until she came almost into a stupor. It is never a wise thing to gaze for very long into the eyes of a dragon, but the woman had no chance in the matter, gaze or no. The last thing she saw before her spirit left Middle-earth were the eyes and maw of Smaug the Magnificent. The dragon had set her free, in his own twisted manner. Having enjoyed the brief hour of amusement, he huddled down into the mountain of gold and slept.

He was done harassing the menfolk and their women for now, but it would not be the last.


End file.
